


the undone and the divine

by sultrygoblin



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Caring, F/M, Fluff, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Smut, True Mates, Unprotected Sex, abstract smut, irregular heat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23869021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: series - maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. but one day you’ll be resting in the arms of someone capable of loving you the way you love them.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75





	1. you're the only thing i wanna touch

**Author's Note:**

> quote found on google,; rh sin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lovers don't finally meet somewhere. they're in each other all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn’t mean for this to end up as a multiple chapter thing but it’s getting out of hand so small easy to digest chunks seemed easiest. i have read so many alpha!steve fics and i love them so much. it’s my first time doing this so hopefully it’s okay.

Steve smelt like all your favorite parts of camping, the earthy scent never completely leaving you mind. Wafting pine and late-night campfire in your direction every time he passed, which thankfully wasn't as often as it could be. Though that had a little bit to do with planning if all the cards were now going to be on the table. More importantly, you knew how he smelt to you; _like home_. But you could never say that, you didn't even dare think it in his presence in case somehow the ultra Alpha would be able to pick up on the change. There were far better Omegas around to choose from, ones with normal cycles who wiggled and writhed. Who lost their goddamn minds. That was the only kind of gal who'd be able to handle the super soldier and thus you had resigned yourself to a life of quiet desperation. Which turns out was quite easy when most of the pining took place emotionally rather than physically. The few times it did you'd managed to slip by unnoticed. It wasn't your fault everyone _assumed_ you were a Beta, there had been no reason to correct you when you'd managed your condition for years without a problem. Every three months you'd take your weekend just a little bit early, happy to find something online for that time months in advance and pretend to be excited about it. you worked for a secret government agency, you could lie about a bead convention. you'd take three days, occasionally four, and hunker down in the loft of your apartment. It wasn't so bad, you could still make it up and down the stairs you built for food and water. A cold shower wouldn't quell it but it would happily keep it at bay for several hours. Even then pain only seemed to come in waves and the best thing about where you worked was you had some world-class pain killers. If you were lucky on your way home you'd manage by him, it was the only time you seemed to find yourself searching for him. Dragging the earthy scent as deeply as you could without suspicion to keep in your mind during the hardest times.

* * *

It had worked for years, even this time which admittedly was poorly timed. Bruce had tried to get you to stick around to help him out but you swore that you couldn't miss this conference. It was a women in science symposium and it was your duty to go support, you fellows. It was low, you felt gross when you said it, but it was heavy enough to make him back off. In return, you pushed it as close as you could. Staying through the night into early morning, standing dangerously on the precipice, but he didn't know. Of course, he didn't know. But now you thin band tee was becoming a bit too warm, the seam of your jeans pressing a bit too hard and you thanked god when the opportunity about being late for your flight became an option. Happily taking you satchel, promising to call the second you got back so you could get back on it, and making your way to the front door. Which should've been a godsend and for one second turned into some terrible mix of Heaven and Hell you wasn't prepared for, hadn't asked for, and would never forget. That's when it all started.

It should've been a hint when the only smell surrounding you was the outdoors but not the outdoors of the compound. The ones you remembered growing up. you knew it well but was sure it was only so potent because you were one step away from danger. And that was indeed the case just not as you had thought. Running straight into the broad chest of Steve Rogers himself.

“God, I am so sorry,” keeping your eyes down, jamming your hands in your back pockets, “Bruce kept me overnight,” taking a step back from him, then another.

“Apology accepted,” he's smiling at you but it feels almost reflexive and there's the sudden painful fear that you've offended him, “He, uh, works you pretty hard it seems?”

It feels like he means something else, your mouth suddenly going dry, “It's what I signed up for, right?” twisting you thumb in your back belt loop, trying to look up at him and succeeding in only getting to his cheeks.

“Hey, didn't we all?” you don't have to look at him completely to see the slightest cock of his head, “You alright?”

“Just tired,” trying to calculate in your mind how much time it seemed like you had, how long till home, anything to keep your mind off how this moment had played out in you mind a thousand times before, “Dead girl walking,” the way it would never play out.

“Well you don't look it,” it's a compliment, it sounds strange in your ears, it seems to speed up the clock, “Bright as ever,” at this rate you'll be stuck in traffic when it started, “You doing something different?”

You shook your head, “Nope,” but it felt worth it, which you knew was the heat talking and was more than a little new, “Just same ol' me.”

“Huh?” it had never come on this strong before, it normal began slow, “Well, I won't keep you,” like a roller coaster, “Sweet dreams,” this was more like going cliff diving.

“Th-thanks,” any moment you were going to plunge deep.

{}

It wasn't a new smell, in fact it was one he knew quite well. It never failed to make his mouth water. But it had always been so faint, as if far away or fading. He knew what it had to be, there was only one reason even the whisper of the scent could make him lose all composure. This wasn't just any Omega. It had been almost two years of this, knowing how close you were but never who, and he was slowly going mad. There was the passing thought that maybe he had imagined it but he had been quick to rationalize if he were imagining it why it would not be the scent he had lost himself in long before this one. That he had continued to lose himself in. Until this one. Every day he seemed to search for where it originated and every time he felt like he came close it suddenly disappeared. Or sped off in some other direction. He knew what day today was though, the 12th. He knows it because the scent will be everywhere but stronger in the labs. Which is where he would try to search today, it was the first real lead he'd had in months. He was sure you heat had something to do with it. The thought somehow made him more determined. Walking in early, long before most anyone would be on site he planned to start, avoiding suspicion for a few hours.

A wall of vanilla smacks him in the face, stopping him in his tracks. Familiar tendrils of fir and balsa seeming to curl around him. It's the strongest it's ever been, he's blanketed in it. He can almost taste it. He wants to look, to run, but he can't move. Labdanum falling into place and creating the spicy smell that haunted his dreams. He closed his eyes, taking a long, deep breath. Something crashed into him, the source of it all. you. You were Bruce's lab rat who seemed to have spent your entire time here avoiding him like the plague, except for a smattering of days here and there. It all clicks into place. The conversation is quick, curt. you can't look at him, it's so clear you have no idea. He feels bad for you, wants to explain it to you, but this isn't the place. He couldn't trust himself to keep his hands to himself. So he just watches you leave, as if the scent were a sparkling cloud around you that he might never see again. He turns, today would still be spent in the science lab but chatting with Bruce.

Bruce who seemed to have no idea what was hiding underneath his nose. It was an unusual occurrence, to say the least, but it wasn't anything new. He remembered being barely an Alpha, more in spirit than anything else. When a person didn't fit any version that a person has seen you just stick you in the category of others. He had to remind himself you weren't as potent to others for a reason, there was more to this than the basic biology he had been expecting. This was fate. He had to trust in it, even though he wanted to stay and ask more questions. No matter how hard it was to not just pull up your file. He powered through the day, even when it was the last thing he wanted to do.

And then-

“Steve,” it's Bruce, catching him by the bicep quickly, “She's not picking up,” he shouldn't know exactly who he meant, anyone would've asked, “I called the hotel and then don't have any record of you,” for a genius he seemed pretty unaware, “I need you to check on you, in case anything really did happen.”

“Of course,” patting him on the shoulder, “I'm sure she just gave you the wrong hotel,” feeling his mouth water at the thought of what was just outside his grasp, “Where am I going?”

{}

The last ten minutes of your drive had been pure hell, certain you were going to do something that got you arrested any second. you didn't trust waiting for the elevator, clamoring up the stairs as a cramp ripped through your body. It felt like you were being torn in two, a feeling you hadn't felt often at the beginning of a heat couldn't be a good sign. Punching in the number on the keypad you managed to stumble into your house. you'd thank god for automatic locks later just glad you didn't have to worry about the door as you fell to the ground. Everything was so oppressive but your sticky skin made all of it impossible to take off. It had taken almost an hour to reach full nudity. you groaned, trying to hold onto northern forest and earth, not the pain as you managed to pull a water bottle from the fridge. you thanked god for forethought, knowing all you had to do was climb the stairs into your premade nest and ride out the next few days. In whatever way that meant.

Thankfully you had made you squat squares living in the land of the hypothetically. It was a challenge but at least it was easy to crawl and the cool wood pressed against your flesh was magnificent. Any other cycle this would enough to calm you but it seemed to do virtually nothing for you once you'd separated from the hard surface. It was Steve's fault, it had to be. you'd never seen him so close to the start, taken in his scent so deeply, been pressed completely against him. you's never spoken to him in those last precious moments of logical thought. He had obviously done this to you. The thought of why made you groan as did the sudden sheen of sweat that overtook your body. you managed to drag yourself into the mass you'd created in the loft of your apartment, sleep off the worst of the beginning, try to gather energy for what inevitably came next.

{}

Steve could smell you from downstairs. He couldn't move fast enough, already having texted Bruce that you were fine and it would have to wait to be explained but not to worry. Taking the stairs two at a time he was in front of your door. Gripping the door frame, he breathed deeply, hoping to compose himself and instead feeling even more frantic than before. He couldn't afford to be frantic. Gasping he slammed his fist into the door three times. Silence. He repeated it. Over and over again.

{}

Pounding rouses you, over and over again on your front door. You want it to go away but it won't stop. Over and over, until you're sure it's moving in sync with your heart. you thighs tighten, slick rushes from you, as if you're been thrust out of the sweet vanilla of your apartment and onto the Olympic Peninsula. You want to get up, to run down the steps, and throw open the door. you know exactly who's here, you know why, and you'll have plenty of time to be embarrassed about it all later. He didn't have to be here, off the top of your head you could name more than a few other women you worked with in heat. It couldn't have _just_ been because you'd passed him in the hall. At least that's what your mind rattled off knowing you'd never make it to the edge let alone down it.

{}

“7,” it's soft, you're trying you best, “2” he must've woken you, “9” he'll make it up to you, “2” he'll have all the time in the world, “8,” once he'd made you his, “1.”

The lock clicks, he moves quickly, unwilling to let any more of you escape than needed. A pile of clothes were just a few steps inside, he carefully stepped over you, past the drop ceiling into the main area. The ceilings were much higher here, dim light coming from a high light and the fading sun through stained glass windows. Everything was cozy, deep colors, old woods, books, and records as far as the eye could see. Till a set of stairs, the wood much newer, clearly still in construction, he followed you, the other half of the room split. Steps leading up to a loft room, beneath a kitchen, and another door that must be your bathroom. He can imagine spending all his time here, wrapped up in how simple you seemed to live. It all happens in seconds, his attention turning suddenly to the groan coming from the loft. Everything in him wants to rip everything off, run up there and just-

He opens the fridge door. you's a prepared girl. He's proud of you, it would help him out greatly but it wouldn't be enough preparation. Not anymore. He grabs a plastic container bearing the label _day one, part one_ , and a chilled water bottle. He removes his shoes, placing your shoes on the stand next to the door, placing hers there alongside you. He kicks the clothing out of the way, not trusting himself with the more intimate fabrics. Taking a deep breath, even as it drags him deeper into the abyss, he readies himself. This is all going to be so new for you, the containers only went up to day four and even those ended with question marks. Things changed the second you ran into him. He was going to have to walk you through it, he couldn't just succumb to instinct. No matter how much he wanted to.

“I'm gonna guess you haven't eaten,” he said, climbing the stairs until he reaches the top, “You have to eat,” there's barely enough room for him to stand, god forbid he stood up straight but it didn't matter.

His knuckles turned white, slowly beginning to crack the hard plastic of the Tupperware, he thanks God for the natural distraction that keeps you from realizing you's already almost completely shattered him. The nest is massive, he can't imagine how many mattresses and cushions you're puzzled together. Massive pillows line the edges, covered in basic cotton cases, medium ones that seemed much thinner began to pinpoint certain areas. A variety of small ones that varied in color but were all linen told him where you spent most of your time. Hair was plastered to your face from sweat, you'd managed to pull a linen sheet over you, a fan pointed at the mass. He can see folded blankets littering the area. It's organized, which is strange to him, but Steve has to remind himself you is isn't just any Omega. you smile weakly at him.

“Did Bruce send you?” by now you should almost be drowning in the hormones while you do seem more uncomfortable than you expected to be, you were far more coherent than he expected, “Does he know?” sitting yourself up slowly and with much effort before holding you hand out to take the food.

“He did but he doesn't know,” pulling off the lid and approaching slowly, holding it out to you as far away as he could.

you smiled, “Thank you.”

He'd do anything if it meant you did that again. He smiled right back, leaning against the railing, head cocked as he watched you pinch bite-sized pieces of meat and cheese between your fingers, popping you between your lips and chewing quickly. It's all carefully planned, he can tell, and not only are you frustrated by the heat. You're frustrated you don't know why it's changed, or at least, won't let yourself believe why. You have to believe, _he needs you to believe_. Before this moment and all the ones that lead up to it, he hadn't been completely unaware. If it hadn't been for the haunting smell he would have asked you out but even then that was because of everything, even if he hadn't known it. He wishes he had, honestly Steve should've known the first time he met you.

“You're different,” he can't help it, you suddenly look completely uninterested in the food, setting it as far off to the side as you could reach, “I'm sorry.”

“You're not wrong,” you fiddle the sheet up over your shoulders, he didn't want you to feel ashamed in front of him, “You don't have to stay. It's only a few days,” the idea still boggled him, “A little worse than normal but I'll be fine.”

None of those things are true, you’re coming to realize that, “Lying isn't gonna work for me, sweetheart.”

“Me either,” you shoot back.

you's got him, it wasn't like he'd come offering answers. Steve hadn't come with a plan at all if he were completely honest. Which is what you wanted. What he wanted.

“We both know this is different,” lowering himself to the floor, back still pressed against the railings, “That's okay. This is all new to me too.”

You are naturally suspicious, it's far too vague, but you're not as logical as you'd like to be. There's only so long you head could stay above water. There's a natural pull that begs to be followed, making everything ache, another sheen of sweat comes with it. But not all thought is lost and every last moment of it will be used to figure out what's going on here. If only to feel like there was some way to prepare for the coming days. For when the days ended.

“What?” you snapped, not meaning to but it drags his attention back to the moment.

you look more confused than angry, he hates it, “It’s alright,” you're here but still too far gone to put together two and two with relative ease, “You're body's trying to line up with mine, sweetheart.”

you brows furrow, slowly it dawns on you, “But we've been- like a thousand times, you've never-” you brain working at that millions of miles a minute all of the geniuses in his life seemed to do, “Why now?” it's clearly the only question you can't answer.

He hopes it's the final one about all this he has to, “I finally got the chance _,”_ he can't help closing his eyes, inhaling deeply, “Two years and you were right there. The whole time,” it feels like you's taking him apart piece by piece, “That's my fault, I should've been paying attention.”

“Steve, I hate to break it to you, but that's biology's fault,” he can hear you focusing on each and every word, forcing you from your mind to the air with far more difficult than you expected.

He opens his eyes, “All of this is,” smiling gently at you, “Let's get you a cooled down while you're still you,” climbing slowly to his feet and making his way down the stairs quick as he could.

{}

He explored the space, one ear listening in case you needed his help. Though he doubted you would ask even if you did, you were still coming to terms with everything. Which was fine. In truth, he was still working it all out. There was a way all of this was supposed to go and so far none of it had happened. He's sure it has something to do with you biology and the changes from the super serum but that just leaves you both in completely untread waters. Speaking of water, he turned from one of the bookshelves that had a terrarium on it when he heard the shower shut off. He can't play it cool, turning completely to face the cracked door. Your legs wobbled but you stepped out, hair still dripping in a far too big robe that thankfully seemed thin, you leaned against the door frame when it was clear you no longer trusted you lower half. It should be his shirt not some robe, he should be carrying you, there's a bunch of shoulds but you're just starting to look comfortable. He can't bring himself to break that no matter how much he aches for it all. Steve wants everything now, in this moment, he's waited so long to feel home again that it's almost torture at this point being denied it.

“If,” you shake your head, swallowing hard, “If this didn't happen, if we were just-”

“Yes,” because he knows if it wasn't this there would be something else. He doesn't know why, he doesn't have all the answers, “Even then,” it's the end, it's the last wall he has to break down.

“I've never- No ones ever-” you can't think straight, everything's jumbled, it's getting harder and harder to keep your head above the waves, “I don't know if I'm ready,” you manage.

It's like a knife but he swallows it down, “Whatever you need,” looking at you, “I'm gonna help you upstairs.”

you don't argue, just keeps your eyes on him as he steps closer and closer. He lifts you easily into his arms, it's that moment from this morning turned up to infinity. All he wants to do is bury his nose in your neck, peeling the fabric from your damp skin. you shiver in his arms, your thighs rub against each other, he smells the onslaught of slick just before you feel it, he holds back the groan but it still vibrates his chest. You're trying to breathe but you're so close, all you have to do is tip your head and you could be lost in it just like you's imagined. But it felt wrong like that, Steve had been so patient with you, the least you could do is practice a little of it yourself. He moved carefully and deliberately, lowering you into the nest, the one that seemed far too large now, and moved to step out of it.

“I'm not-” he simply waited, watching you work through the thoughts, “Can you hold me?”

“Yeah,” after this is all over he'll tell you how proud he is of you but right now he doesn't need you taking any step back, “Can I...?” gesturing to himself.

“Probably a good idea,” it's music to his ears and he can't move fast enough.

It might be all he gets this first day but he'll take it, it was _far_ better than nothing. By the time he's down to his boxer-briefs, you's made you way back under the sheet, having tossed the robe...somewhere. He really didn't care. Focused on moving slowly, keeping his eyes on hers as got closer and closer, until he clutched the corner of the fabric in his hand. It was light, airy, but with a weight, he folds it back carefully. Making sure to glance down so he doesn't expose any of you you clearly wasn't ready to. It offered him enough room and he sat down, pulling the sheet over his hip as he lay down on his side. Facing you. Hold means a lot and he doesn't want to press too hard, too fast, not yet anyway. Steve waits, watching you consider what could only be more than a few options. Rolling on your side to match you moved quickly, ripping off the band-aid, you hand cups his cheek. He shudders, you trembles and surges forward, pressing yourself against him in an instant. What erupts from his throat is more akin to a growl, squeezing you tighter against him, feeling you hard nipples surrounded by soft breasts pressing into his chest, goosebumps erupt across your skin. He bites his lip hard, burying his face in your hair and squeezing his eyes shut.

“I'm sorry,” your voice is soft, so full of guilt.

“Don't be,” kissing the top of your head, “No one prepared either of us for this.”

Your body is still tense against his, your nose pressed deliberately to the hollow of his throat, the curve of his shoulder, under his chin. Steve can't help smiling, you're the strangest little thing and he's finding himself more entranced with you every second. It's real, he knows it is, if it wasn't you would've succumbed to the animal or he would have left at one of their behests. But you don't know he thinks that. You are still coming to terms with what you mean to be to him, it's taking you last bit of cautious thought. He almost feels bad taking it from you, _almost_.

“It's okay,” his hand inching up the slick skin of you back, “It's alright, sweetheart,” easing his head back as he gripped the back of your neck.

you moved slowly, he guides you, you doesn't resist. It's his groan that echoes in the air. The tip of your nose meets the sensitive skin and you are buried yourself in it. Nails press into your skin as your body seems to ripple against him, you become desperate for contact and he's not much better. you presses forward and he rolls on his back, a thousand sensations happen in seconds. The tip of your tongue dared to taste him, you slickened core pressed against the cotton of his underwear, and his nose finally pressed against the scent gland he'd been aching for. It was worth the wait, he swears, it might not even be the same if it hadn't been so long. He can almost feel you falling beneath the waters, your entire body breaks into a sweat, he can feel your teeth scraping at the flesh and he can't help arching up into you. It's what both their bodies want- no, it's what you need. But you are still so apprehensive. He doesn't want it to be like that. He wants you to be sure, to know that this is for keeps. That he'll take care of you, he'll love you, and one day you'd have yourselves a gaggle of super pups.

“Steve,” you whine, dripping with carnal need, “It...”

“I know,” feathering his lips over your scent gland, “Just try to sleep. Prepare for the worst of it.”

“But you,” you gasps, puffing air across the spot and he grits his teeth.

“I'll be fine,” he's so glad you can't see the lie, “Just try. For me?” you nodded gently, brushing over and over, “That's my good girl.”

Neither of you miss the words and neither of you say a thing.


	2. you know i'll adore you 'til eternity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> every part of me is blushing and burning from you. nr hart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s here guys. ya’ll seemed excited so i wanted to get it out. there will probably be a few more parts. i don’t quite know yet but i feel like this isn’t quite where it should end, ya know? as always feedback is appreciated and i love any ideas you have to offer. i hope you guys like it. my first alpha/omega sex scene. also...weird abstract sex scene!

Steve doesn't know how he slept just that he must've because when he opens his eyes from what he's sure is a blink it's dark. Past midnight dark. The natural glow of the city and occasional headlights, cast multicolored shadows throughout the apartment. He can think truly straight for the first time since that morning, happy for the calm you slumber brings both of you. Except you's not sleeping. One of the many prepped blankets wrapped around you next to an open window by the stairs. There's something about the light, the wafting curtains, and the illuminated curve of your face that drove home the point he was supposed to be here. If this was how you'd been introduced, you scent in the air, the way you looked this moment, he would've known the second he saw you. He still feels ashamed he didn't.

* * *

you turn your head, “I want to. When it all happens,” the cool breeze and the sleep has brought back the minuscule amount of level thought their scenting had stolen, “I just have to tell you first and we have to stay like this because...” a breeze rushed through the room and you inhaled deeply.

“I understand,” it's the pace you's set, he couldn't be happier than right now, “Whatever it is, it's both of us now. I know it's hard but you gotta believe that, sweetheart,” you're there, now it's just building courage.

you took another long breath, “I know, I really do. I just had to think and it's so hard to think-” shaking your head, “I get what you were saying now and I was just thinking to myself how. How is that possible? I always thought I was,” you know he's going to hate the word before it falls from your lips, “Defective,” his low, unconscious growl makes your heart swell, finally able to drag you eyes back to him, “But it was just to make sure it was someone really special,” you hold the blanket with one hand, reaching with the other to yank the window closed, “Someone who understood and didn't care,” you takes another deep breath, this one he can hear shudder, “It was to make sure I found you.”

It's clear why it was so important for you to say because it felt so crucial he hear it. you didn't just understand it but you come to the conclusion you were made for him. A fact he already knew and was far past accepting. All he had to do was be who you needed him to be and nothing else, it's all you'll ever really want from him. Without a thought you pull the blanket off of you, folding it back up and placing it under the window before rising to your feet and making you way back to their nest. That's what it would be from now on, the thought is enough to get him half-hard, watching you climb in beside him does the rest. The way your breasts hung against you, the way you were looking at him, as if your eyes were finally open for the first time since this all began.

“I'm glad you told me,” sitting up as your knees met the mattress, his hands on your hips.

you gasps, “Just- god - just one more thing,” letting him pull you into his lap, linen tangled around his ankles, “I need you to do something for me.”

He buried his face in your neck, pulling huffs of spicy vanilla and musk, “Anything,” he means it, anything you asked he'd do, as long as you let him have you.

Your hands are trembling when you grab his cheeks, forcing those sky blues to look at you, “I want to be me when you do it.”

Now, you're asking him to do it right now, “Are you sure?”

“I never thought it would happen. Never hoped, never thought about,” it hurts him to hear as much as it must have hurt you to believe for so long, “I don't want it to be a haze, I want to remember all of it. Even if I can't remember after.”

Steve had more self-control than he had given himself credit for. Ripping his face from your grasp to bury his lips in your neck, teeth grazing the spot over and over. One hand clings to his hair, the other his shoulder, in less than a minute you's soaked the entire front of his briefs with slick. He feels that sudden moment of clarity, the one you'd had not too long ago that brought you to this very second. He understand how it was possible to push through the heady fog of it all. One last moment before everything became a tangle of limbs and muddled hormones.

“I'm yours.”

His teeth clamped hard on the gland, you moaned, he doesn't want you to think about it. Breaking the skin he can only taste sweetness, it's why he had to say it this way, hoping you'd just take you in, hold you close, and believe you. He means you with everything in him, after all this he'll be able to explain how deeply. You whine, trying to roll against him but his hands keep you still. This is home now. He doesn't want to be anywhere else. It's not quite enough, not until you both have all of each other. Pulling away feels like the hardest thing he's ever done but he needs to see you's still there. The haze hasn't taken over. When he finds you're not completely lost he pulls you to the same spot on himself. There's no hesitation. You bear down on him as if starving. One hand disappears, you mewl vibrating the flesh clenched between your teeth so deliciously he thought he might explode from it alone, somehow he's managed to fumble his waistband down.

“Please,” it's him needing you, “Please, sweetheart,” it's him begging you.

Steve's answer is the sensation of you enveloping him, body and soul. Every part of you grips him tight; teeth, limbs, core. You're so warm, so slick against him, and for a moment all either of you can do is take each other in. you walls tightening around him, becoming accustomed to the intrusion much quicker than you ever would've have expected. It's as if he's touching every part of you inside and out but it's not enough. Not for either of you. you ground yourself against him, rolling against his slick soaked pelvis for any friction along you swollen lips and clit. He kissed you then, swallowing down you moans as he pushes forward, you back pressed into some mass of cushions, his hands travel the short path to your thighs. you wrap around him before he can urge you, he groans, teeth pulling at his bottom lip and there's a sudden desperation for your eyes on his. You have to see him, ingrain him into these sensations you'd never have to suffer again. you face red and sticky with sweat or maybe tears, gaze hazy as you smiled up at him, more beautiful than anything he's seen.

“You're perfect, sweetheart,” watching your back arch, gasping at his words, you pussy desperately clenching around him, “I'm gonna show you that, 'Mega.”

It's the first time he calls you it and he can see the fire that runs through your blood at the way his tongue curves around the letters. You try to move against him but his hips hold you firmly in place. A low whining noise pours from your throat, knees digging into his ribs, nails breaking skin. You arch up and fall over and over while you make that same sound.

“Please,” it's music, “Love me, Alpha,” it's heaven.

It's a flurry of motion and neither can quite remember all of it even after it's all happened. you'd held on far longer than either had expected and there was no shame in admitting that you had been lost in the sensation. A slow glide of his hips, back and forth across hers, while his lips matched the movements. you can't kiss back, overstimulated by friction and feelings in a way you never knew your body or mind was capable of. It doesn't matter, he's perfectly content to have another manifestation of you need for him and what you'd become. All you seem capable of is clinging to him as if you might slip away into the sensation completely if you did. Nails digging into his shoulder blades, hips bruising you thighs, every muscle a bowstring ready to release. He needs that for you, to realize how no matter how terrifying this all seemed this was worth it. This was where you were supposed to be.

“It's alright,” whether for himself or you, he's not sure, just that the words fall, “You're alright, sweetheart,” his pace picking up as you whimpered against his lips.

One second you had been wound too tight, the next everything loosened, there was no time to enjoy it as a sensation of all your limbs relaxing and flying took over. Light splashed across your vision, your entire body buckling as it chased the sensation that threatened to extinguish at any minute. If he remembers nothing else from these moments Steve knows he will always remember that just as vividly as if he were still part of the moment. This was the moment you opened entirely to him, gone from this Earth, and trusting him to take care of you until you return. His pace doesn't stop. The onslaught of slick and your walls clamping around threatened to stutter his hips, he gave a harder thrust to counter and watched you return with a roar. Greedily you run the tip of your tongue along the sweat-soaked skin of his neck, it's starting, teeth scraping his clavicle, each snap of his hips is deeper and harder than the last, lips running across barely healed mark where his scent is strongest. His angle shifts, your teeth sink into his flesh once more vibrating with a shriek, it's his turn to roar and it all melts away. Soothing words scatter the air, his or hers, knot swelling more and more with every thrust. you scream, head thrown back as he buried himself in you completely, throbbing around the intrusion that seemed to stretch you to your limit. Rutting against you, Steve follows your lead and sunk his teeth into you again. Harder and deeper than he'd ever dare were he completely in control. There seems to be no other way you'd want it. you're dancing along that edge again, you both plan to drag him over it with you.

You pant, shriek, beg, muttering words he can't make out over and over. He still wants you, driving firmly against their locked hip. His entire being ignites in an instant, it's bliss, every deep inhale nothing but you scent, everything around him is some part of you, entirely cocooned by you. Your grip on him and his knot is a perfect vice, rippling against him with your own fading, you're made for him. It's that thought that brings him the destruction he so desperately craves. He spills himself in you over and over again, sending another wave of sensation through you that seemed to prolong his own. you's somewhere between moaning and crying, body shuddering around him from the overstimulation that couldn't be helped. He wants to collapse but that isn't an option, easing you onto their sides, one leg still hooked around him, the other flat, crying out each time he shifted inside you to position you comfortably. It was distracting but he managed, yanking one of the assorted strewn blankets over you, all with one arm so the other could keep you close.

“You okay?” you panted with a smile and a nod, “That was....” but none of the words felt right. you repeated the response, half-aware would be the closest he'd get till after you'd at least had a nap, “Yours,” pressing your face into the crevice between his neck, chin, and the pillow, “Mine,” nuzzling and sighing deeply.

“Always, sweetheart,” pushing his fingers firmly into your lower back, “Sleep,” moving you deliberately along your skin.

It seemed as if you were trying to mumble something but sleep took you far too quickly for you to manage it. For a while, he just held you as he worked his fingers into your muscles. There wasn't much more he could do to help ease your muscles from their inevitable soreness. Feeling how your chest rose against him and fell back, you changing breaths involuntarily loosen and tightening you around him where the joined. He focused his breathing with hers until this time, fitfully, he managed to drift off.

{}

It's well into late morning when Steve wakes up in the bed, alone, for a brief moment he wonders if perhaps it had been an incredibly wonderful dream. A thousand sensations hit him at the same time eager to remind him that all of it had been real. He climbed to his feet, shabbily folding the sheet and wrapping it around his hips, before making his way carefully down the stairs. you were standing in front of an open window, hair drenched from what he had to assume was another cold shower, drowning in his shirt, it was perfect. Except you had the phone to your ear and the person on the other end didn't sound happy. Had that been why he'd woken so suddenly? Somewhere inside he'd felt your frustration and the urge to soothe it became stronger than sleep.

“I get it, Bruce,” he padded up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Yes I do!” he runs the tip of his nose along the shell of you ear

“Do you really?” he can now hear from the speaker, “We're supposed to talk about that kind of stuff,” your body shudders but you breath holds even.

“I screwed up, I know,” across the jut of your jaw and the beginning curve of your neck, “It was complicated, Bruce. There's never a good time to explain it,” leaning back into him, your neck stretching ever so slightly to the side unconsciously, “I'm sorry. It's not because I don't trust you,” you move slowly along the light curve of your neck, “Why do you think I called you?” taking in the scent of him that would always lie just underneath your own.

“Because I would have assumed HYDRA before I ever got to this?” a self-satisfied chuckle followed. At the sound you finally relaxed completely, allowing him to move onto the apex of your neck and shoulder, “You deserve it. You both deserve something good.”

“So do you,” trying to keep you focus from the way you nosed at the quickly healing mark just passed that curve, “I'll let you know when I can come in.”

“Take your time, enjoy it,” another laugh, “Bye.”

Hitting the red button and dropping the phone on a random shelf near you, “I was on the phone, Captain,” you joked, feeling his smile press against the skin, “What?”

“You're a really good friend,” his lips and breath sent shivers down your spine and that familiar rush of liquid between your legs, “I wish I knew more about you.”

You smiled, resting your arms over his, “You will,” your eyes threatened to flutter closed, “We should eat.”

He nodded, planting a tender kiss before pulling himself away, “You sit, I'll make food,” you turned, taking in his attire with a raised eyebrow, “I didn't have time to bring a go-bag.”

“Ah,” you nodded, looking down at yourself, “If you need-”

“The answers no, whatever the question is it's no and it will be very time you ask,” he was quick, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you tight against him, “Let me make you breakfast and we'll go from there.”

Day one parts two and three had been repurposed as omelet fixings along with a few other things he'd managed to pull together. Of course he knew how to cook, his mother had died when he was 18 and he'd had a long life since then, even taking the ice into account. There were so many things about him you just knew because everyone did. Instead, you chose not to focus on that, instead of telling about how breakfast was not a meal you had mastered and promising when all this was over to make him a dinner that would knock his socks off. Which he seemed to believe wholeheartedly, asking where you'd learned. you sat there on the couch long after their plates were cleaned, just talking. There was so much more that you hadn't know about him and things that seemed so different when he told you. That nagging feeling between your thighs never truly went away but it felt almost normal, manageable. you didn't have to hide you squirms or the need to waft the shirt around your chest, Steve never pointed any of it out, just continuing on as if nothing was happening with a small smile to himself he apparently thought you couldn't see.

you can't help reaching over, “If you're gonna smile about it,” urging his face upwards with a light push on his chin, “At least let me see it,” finishing the fourth very large cup of water he had foisted on you with the other hand.

“Where'd you come from?” grasping your hand lightly and holding it between both his own, “I just mean...” but he didn't quite know how to explain it.

But you nodded, “I get it,” you took a long deep breath, this one to ground and calm more than anything, “I keep asking myself that,” you tone a little lost, dragging his gaze to you with worry, and watching as you pulled yourself out of where ever it was you had gone with a smile, “I just keep telling myself that even if it wasn't for this...” gesturing between you with a jittery hand, “We'd still be here.”

He nodded, lifting your hand to his lips, “We'd still be here,” he repeated pressing a kiss to the center of your palm, “After everything I don't think it could be anyone else,” ghosting his fingers along the skin, up and down each finger, “You feel like home,” letting you hold his cheek in the lavished hand, taking the opportunity to grab you waist and pull you into his lap, seeking out what must now be a silvery scar with his nose, “You are home,” his voice more firm as if to remind both you and himself of that fact, lest it become lost.

The fire curls in your belly, it reminds you of those fairytales with dragons, the way you would wake gently. First a little puff of air that makes the protagonist look but isn't quite proof of consciousness but a reminder to tread carefully.

“I go camping every summer,” shifting your hand to hold the back of his head, “I mean, every summer since I was a baby, alright?” both of you laughing lightly at you need for him to understand the fact, “Didn't matter who. Family. Summer Camp. Friends. One time I drug Bruce with me,” he began to stroke along your back, palms, fingers, aimless patterns that sometimes made you shiver and shake, “I love sitting out there in the early morning, you know? Lasts night's campfire still in the air, everything's cold and crisp even in the middle of summer, and it's just this blanket of evergreen and dewy Earth,” he hums against you neck giving you the impression he's picturing it, “I always spent that moment alone. It was my moment, my perfect moment that nothing could change,” you're still getting used to how he seems to sense parts of you, leaning his head back to look at you, “You smell like that moment.”

Those blue eyes, the ones that say exactly what you mean, are looking at you as if you hung the moon and the stars, the dragon inside you belly snorts, it's eyelids twitching. In the stories now is where the adventurer has very little time to complete their quest when it wakes you're sure it will be far more powerful than the last time. You refuse to lose these moments to animal instinct and every time he does the same, your heart swells. None of this is how it was described to you by your mother or sisters. Maybe it's not for everyone else, their world was far from ordinary, this shouldn't be any different. It's extraordinary and terrifying but every second of it is breathtaking, it makes up for everything it seems like. There'll be stuff to work through, it wasn't something that would solve itself overnight, but it's not as difficult to talk about. It doesn't stick in the back of your mind like a tack. you's starting to think Steve doesn't really think about it aside from in the abstract.

“No, no,” his voice is sweet and firm, “No running off,” the light swat to you backside a surprise for many reasons and bringing you back to you sense, “I missed you, sweetheart.”

“Did you-?” your voice and face dripping with confusion, watching the very fake innocent grin split his face, “Is that always how you're going to do that?”

He nodded, “Whenever I can get away with it.”

The slumbering beast awoke, there was no grogginess to shake from its head, no need to wake slowly. Flapping its wings, it rose high in your chest, and set every part of your body alight. It's another one of those things he seems to sense, seeming to feel it himself. Or maybe it was you. The heat the rushed off you in waves, dampening the sheet above his thighs, it's shrieking for more. But more is so vague. You're so thankful for Steve as you feel the blaze reach it's peak quicker and more intense than ever before.

Everything is sensations. Disconnection. There's the sense of floating, calloused hands, pillowed lips. your eyes can't stay open, rainbows of light make it through the thin flesh, dancing across your vision and dragging you deeper into eternity. It's like he's everywhere, moving you as easily as if you were a puppet. It's pleasant. Not to think. All you have to do is feel, your body and his will do the rest. His voice fades in and out, you can't make out what he's saying, it doesn't matter. It's one more place he takes over, farther and farther. There's the sudden sensation of being full, you can't breathe in all the right ways. The beast has found more to burn, every nerve ending is a bonfire. It's sunrise and evergreen. It's him, it's always been him. you can feel it everywhere. It sends you tumbling, you drag him with you. you pants, full and wanting to be nowhere else.

“I love you,” a whisper hidden in a pant beneath a moan but it was there.

He didn't miss it, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always feedback is appreciated. and i am always taking ideas or requests.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no matter what I’m doing, no matter how busy i am, i am always thinking of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she -> you sorry if that is bothersome but it’s hard switching back and forth with new stories and old stories. i will go back and edit previous parts in the future. no smut in this chapter but for sure in the next one.

6 days is the longest heat cycle you’ve ever experienced and it felt much too short. To be fair, you could’ve spent forever in that bed with him and it wouldn’t have been enough. He has to leave early in the morning, swinging by his place and going in to get reamed for all the work he’d ignored. The apartment is empty and you hate it. Hate that you can smell him, you can feel him, you can taste him, but he isn’t there. It makes you grumpy in a way coffee can’t fix. Not for lack of trying on Bruce’s part and by the fourth cup he has to accept this might not be a caffeine problem. He doesn’t bring it up, not quite yet. You wish you could perk up, you really do want to, but your only contact with your new mate had been a groggy kiss before he’d left and a black cloud seemed to have hung over your head ever since. You knew a lot of that had to do with it being shiny and new, you should be acting like a grown-up. You try to focus but every little thing that goes wrong frustrates you. It’s starting to seem like you might be doing more harm than help.

* * *

“I can’t, I just can’t!” you finally shout, ripping your eyes away from the wall of formulas with more frustration than you can remember, “I’m sorry, Bruce, I just-”

“Stop it,” how he can be laughing, you don’t know, but he’s got a hand on your shoulder in that friendly way that is somehow instantly calming, “It’s okay to be disappointed you don’t get to see him. Hell, I would be to if I were in your shoes,” which brings a smile to your face and he shakes you a bit, “How about we head to the caf, get a couple sandwiches, and you can talk about it? Get some stuff off your mind.”

Food would probably be good after the last few days, you’re sure it couldn’t hurt, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Alright,” sliding his arm around your shoulder and heading towards the door, “So, I sent your true love right to your door, you’re welcome, then what happened?”

You slap him lightly but it all comes spilling out. You don’t talk about all of it, obviously, but you do talk about what you should’ve much earlier. How you’d gotten there? You’re halfway through your sandwich, sitting across from him in the booth when you’ve finally ended at this morning and your disappointment, knowing it was a valid feeling that you would have to get used to. Like a good friend Bruce listens, pushing you along until he’s sure you're finished. He’s smiling at you, that big, dumb grin you hate because it always seems to mean he knows something you don’t. You’re suddenly not interested in your food and you start to wrap the other half back up.

“I knew,” he finally says, you can’t help the drop of your jaw, “I mean, you still should’ve told me, it doesn’t change that, but I knew. I know when something’s up with you,” it’s definitely a bonus of working with him when he was there and being in charge when he wasn’t, the dynamic duo of nerd Clint had called you, “Steve started poking around the lab...it doesn’t take a genius.”

“That is devious,” shaking your head with an uncontrollable smile to match his, “Why go through the trouble though?”

“You deserve it,” he shrugged, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth, “You, uh, should probably go find him. See if it helps,” moving as if to pat your hand and instead grabbing your saved lunch, “I’ll put this in the fridge. Don’t take too long, alright? Work hours, you’re still mine.”

You laughed, climbing to your feet, “Real quick, I promise.”

“Don’t lie right to my face.”

{}

Why the training room? You couldn’t deny that at least you could openly ogle but with that in mind, you had to admit Bruce might’ve been right. Couldn’t you have just taken the whole week? You know that’s the leftover hormones talking, mostly. You shake your hands, taking deep breaths as you make your way from the front towards the main gym area, praying to God he isn’t in one of Tony’s simulators because you would have to leave. You’d just have to take the dark cloud because...

“Fancy meeting you here,” it’s dumb but at least they’re words.

Others are milling around getting their workouts in. You’re suddenly very aware of how public it is and starting to wonder if this was such a good idea. Thus far you had done the bare minimum when it had come to controlling yourself around Steve.

“First time?” stepping away from the punching bag with a grin, “Here I thought Bruce would be hiding you under a mountain of work.”

“Oh it still awaits me but apparently pouting works,” you shrugged, taking a step towards him, trying not to think of the people who seem to be openly staring now, “Who knew?”

“I did but to be fair I’ve seen it first hand,” unwinding the wrappings around his hands, “This morning, in fact. I have not been able to stop thinking about it.”

“Well, then, I hope you feel terrible,” you joke, watching how fast he closes the gap once his hands are free.

They’re holding your face and he’s giving you a short, work-appropriate kiss that you wish was anything but before taking a step backward. You’re sure someone whistles but you can’t care because you know in a minute or two here you’ll both have to go back to work. Just a few floors away and on completely opposite sides of the universe.

“Very,” he answered when he stepped back, cheeks red at his own realization of your audience, “Fury needs me on this next one.”

He was going to finish up his work out and come find you. It could be a week, maybe two. It had to do with what Natasha had come by asking him to help with. Suddenly a day or two didn’t seem to bad. You smiled, accepting another kiss and telling him to stop by the lab before he left but you had to go. Another kiss and you’re off because you think you might cry. You feel emotionally out of control which is for sure the leftover hormones. Using that to calm yourself you’re almost to the lab, sure you’ve beaten the worst of it when it just hits you like a wall. Thank god for bathrooms.

It felt good though, you couldn’t deny that. All the pent up disappointment from this morning disappeared, so did the annoyance at yourself for not just convincing him to go deal with it then. Until the tears finally stopped and you just felt gloomy. At least that wasn’t a new feeling. Wiping cold water across your face, you stand at the sink until your face returns to normal and the dampness at the edges of your hairline has mostly disappeared. Walking into the lab, the catharsis carried you over till the evening. It was almost like everything was fine and normal. At one point you’re elbow-deep in work and everything else slips from your mind. It’s good for you because by the time you return to your mind everything’s settled. 

These are normal feelings, you have to keep reminding yourself that it’s different with Steve, he’s your mate. It’s an overwhelming sensation knowing you would be without him for so long and you cried because there was really nothing else you could do with that feeling. You know it but when you’re stepping onto the jet-way all that logic goes right out the window and you watch it happen to him too.

This kiss is the exact opposite of work-appropriate. You can hear Tony make some snarky comment but it doesn’t register, you’re pretty sure Natasha takes care of it. It’s like those kisses in your apartment, where he sucks your very soul out of your body and breathes it back into you with his own. It’s not enough, he knows it, you’re both sorry. But it will have to do because Fury is shouting and that’s never good. 

“I love you,” he’s looking in your eyes, making sure you know.

Just in case, “I love you too.”

You hate that you have to think about ‘just in case’, watching them take off, and standing there long after. Knowing they won’t turn around, that he won’t be back tomorrow, and more than likely two weeks was a conservative estimate. You know it’s stupid to hope for those things. But you do. After far too long you finally make your way towards your car and to your apartment. 

It feels a lot less like home without him.

{}

There’s a hollow feeling in his chest he doesn’t remember being there. He’s sure you can feel it too, or maybe he’s feeling it because you do. Whatever the reason it steals his attention far more than he expected it too. Missing you was a given, you occupying his mind when the mission didn’t, sure. But he hadn’t realized how much you would actually worm your way in. Until he was sitting, waiting for their target to make a move and he had to focus on focusing. It’s new but he knows exactly what it is. All he can imagine is how you’re home right now, alone, trying to understand what’s going on. He can imagine how you’re trying to explain it all away. Invalidating yourself. He shakes his head.

Never has Steve been so happy to see a Hydra agent than that very moment. A series of chases and fights that hold his attention. For now. It should be the end. They’ve got the target. But it can’t be that easy. It’s never been that easy. They’ll be out here a few more days at least. No doubt there’s already an e-mail alert on your phone about it. He should call you but he can’t. The second he hears your voice he won’t be able to do his job. It won’t always be like this, time was the answer to most things, but for now, it was best for the both of you. 

Until it wasn’t. It’s been two nights and he hasn’t slept. At all. Not even the paltry four hours he’s been managing since they left. And it isn’t for lack of trying but it isn’t going to happen. You haven’t been sleeping either, it probably isn’t helping. Turning to look at the hotel phone, the one he shouldn’t be picking up or dialing but is anyway. It rings a few times, he’s trying to think what time it is there but he can’t conjure it up in his brain because the phone clicks.

“Hello?” you hope it’s him but you’re ready for it not to be, “Hello?”

He hasn’t said anything, “Hey, sweetheart,” it’s little more than a whisper, he can almost hear her body relax, “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” he can hear you try to catch your breath, “Bruce says when you get back...”

“Sounds more like you’ve been working through the weekends,” you don’t say anything and he knows he’s right. But he can’t scold you, “Tell me you’ve been taking care of yourself, at least.”

“I’m eating,” you try to laugh but it’s more of a staccato sigh than anything else, “I can’t sleep.”

“Me either,” you hum, a sad sound of empathy and he knows right now if you were there you’d be tracing your fingers down the curve of his face. It’ll have to be enough to imagine, “You’re not here and there aren’t enough pillows.”

“Well, that’s because I’ve spoiled you with the nest,” he sighs in content at the thought, “Tell me what’s been going on, I miss your voice.”

And he does. Then it’s her turn and before he knows it his eyes actually feel heavy. He can hear the hums of your impending sleep in the long pauses between words. Neither of you want to go, both of you clinging to the consciousness you’d been so desperate to avoid the last few nights. He can’t keep his eyes open, little snores come through the line and he smiles.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“‘ove y’u ‘oo,” he pictures the words falling from your chapped lips and it feels so real for the first time in a long time.

He hates hanging up but he’s thankful for sleep. If only because then he can dream of you. The closest to real he’ll find out here. Steve didn’t realize it would be like this and as much as he hates the uncomfortable feelings coursing through them he wants it to always feel this way. So desperate for you that distance for even short times seemed torturous and this time almost impossible. He loves you more than he’s ever loved anything. All he can do is hope that knowing that can tide you over or at least, soothe the worse of the aches. It’s all either of you have for now. 

**Author's Note:**

> as always feedback is appreciated. and i am always taking ideas or requests.


End file.
